


Just a Feeling

by Captain_Savvy



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Battle, Dragon Age: Inquisition Spoilers, F/M, From The Beyond Spoilers, From the Beyond, Hurt/Comfort, Modern Girl in Thedas, Rescue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-25 22:23:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15650106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captain_Savvy/pseuds/Captain_Savvy
Summary: Cullen leaves Skyhold to accept a challenge to a duel. Tamsyn Ashworth has a bad feeling about the whole situation, and decides to do something about it.





	Just a Feeling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AuriV1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuriV1/gifts).
  * Inspired by [From the Beyond](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11363274) by [Auriana Valoria (AuriV1)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuriV1/pseuds/Auriana%20Valoria). 



> This is a fic based on the *amazing* Modern Girl in Thedas fic, From the Beyond, by AuriV1 
> 
> This is set after chapter 38 of the original work, so BEWARE SPOILERS! Go read FTB!

“You’re just being paranoid.”  
  
That’s what Tamsyn Ashworth told herself as she stood on the battlements of Skyhold, gazing out at the snowy Frostback mountains. Each day since Cullen had departed the keep she had found herself there, looking down at the great bridge to the gates as though expecting to see him riding back beneath the evening sky. It would be some time before he returned, of course- Val Royeaux was no day-trip destination, as she’d learned herself. A shudder passed down her spine at the memory. Perhaps that was why she’d been so against the Commander traveling there. She recalled all too well the fate that had nearly befallen her inside that gilded viper’s nest.  
  
Her mind traveled back to the War Room meeting where this whole mess had begun. A certain Vicomte Tremane Pontival had written to the Commander, demanding a duel as restitution for the death of his brother- under pain of starting a supposed feud. That was shocking enough, since this “war table mission” only became available in-game after the events of Therinfal Redoubt. She was reminded again all too clearly that this was not a game anymore. This was real life. She was the stranger in this world, dropped here by forces she didn’t understand, and her presence seemed to affect even the smallest details of the story she thought she knew.  
  
Leontine Pontival would have normally been present to bolster the Inquisitor’s power at Therinfal Redoubt. Maxwell - the Inquisitor in this reality- had chosen Redcliffe instead. As a result, the nobleman Pontival had been traveling to Skyhold with gifts to show his support, rather than at the templar fortress. Along the way he was attacked by Red Templars. In the letter, the fallen noble’s brother accused the Inquisition of failing to secure the roads, failing to offer an escort, and failure to warn them of the danger. The cherry on top of it all was that Tremane had, apparently, heard of the Inquisition’s Seer, and was certain she had known the tragedy would occur and had simply chosen not to act.  
  
The conversation echoed in her memory.  
  
  
“You have a duelist, right? Send her instead, or just refuse to deal with him at all.” It was the only counsel Tamsyn could think of, based on what she knew, and what she felt.  
  
Josephine shook her dark head. “Normally I would agree, but the Vicomte has made his challenge quite public. Should our Commander refuse to accept and waylay these accusations himself, it could reflect … poorly … on the Inquisition’s reputation.”  
  
“Ridiculous,” Cullen scoffed. His brows were drawn together, his lips turned down in a grimace that told his anger, “This man has the gall to not only insinuate that I am at fault for his brother’s poor planning, but to bring Tamsyn into his ravings? After all that she has been through, he would blame her? I'll make him pay for this idiocy myself.”  
  
Tamsyn felt heat rise in her cheeks. Was he really that bent on defending her honor? She found herself staring at his snarling lips, the way the scar stretched above his teeth, and forced herself to look down at the war table instead. Cullen was a gentleman. Of course he would defend her honor. He would do the same for Josie or Leliana. This wasn’t about her. Still, something didn’t feel right about it.  
  
“That isn’t necessary, Commander,” she piped up, “We have too much work here at Skyhold to be riding off to Val Royeaux. I doubt it would affect our reputation enough to be of any concern. How much could a feud with one man harm the Inquisition?”  
  
“Do not doubt the power of an emotional, and vocal, nobleman,” Sister Nightingale pointed out, “There are steps we could take to make him withdraw his challenge, of course. But the board has been set; the next move is the Commander’s, and spectators are watching and waiting.”  
  
Cullen rested a hand on the pommel of his sword and gave a resolute nod. “I’ve made my decision. I will accept the challenge.”  
  
“I really don’t think this is a good idea.” Tamsyn couldn’t explain it; but something about the whole situation made her fearful.    
  
“Do you have knowledge of this event?” He turned those honey-colored eyes on her; the fire in them made her stomach flip-flop. “If you know anything, tell us.”  
  
“Well, it‘s not that simple.” She winced, and attempted to explain as well as she could the details that she remembered from her experience. How the ‘mission’ came about, the options put forth, the results of each. How the current situation differed from the ‘story’.  
  
“You mention no danger or ill consequences,” Cullen said, “So why do you believe I should not go?”  
  
“I just… it's a gut feeling, I guess?”  
  
Tamsyn felt ridiculous. The words rang childish when spoken aloud; she sounded like a frightened little girl, not an Advisor of the Inquisition. Cullen looked at her thoughtfully for a few silent moments, but his jaw was already set with determination.  
  
“You’ve no need to fear. I shan’t be traveling alone; it will take no more than two weeks, there and back. Besides, some fresh air would be pleasant. I’ll accept this man’s challenge, I‘ll face him in a duel, and I will win. For the Inquisition.”  
  
“And for Lady Tamsyn,” Josephine added, a small grin piquing her lips as she glanced over her candle-lit clipboard. Tamsyn exhaled sharply from her nostrils at the distinct glint of mischief in the ambassador’s eyes.  
  
“Yes.” Cullen agreed, “For Lady Tamsyn.” He sent another look her way; this one was softer, a look that she was afraid to read into. Tamsyn smiled nervously at him, and then dropped her gaze back to the map-strewn table. Clearly, her gut feeling wasn’t enough to sway them. How could it be? She wasn’t a real fortune-teller, after all.  
  
 Talk turned to other matters, then, and when she had regained control of her worry she joined in when she thought it was needed. Concern remained, gnawing at the back of her mind; and though she wanted to bring up the matter of the duel again, she resisted.  
  
The next morning she had watched as Cullen and a small troop of hand-picked soldiers set out on horseback. Something about the sight of him crossing that bridge, growing smaller and smaller as he moved into the distance, made Tamsyn’s heart feel like it was weighed down by stone.  
   
  
  
She still felt it today. That sense of fear had followed her since the meeting. A few days had passed; not even enough time for Cullen to have reached his destination, really, but that uneasiness was still there, hounding her every step. She wasn’t the nervous type. So what was this about? Was it because of what had happened while she was in Val Royeaux? Maybe her own fears affected her judgment. Cullen was a fine warrior, an intelligent man, and he had a brace of soldiers ready to fight at his side if needed. He could take care of himself. Then why did worry prick at her thoughts more sharply than the bitter mountain winds? Perhaps it was because she cared about him that much. The revelation made her glad she was standing in the cold; no one who passed by would be confused by the redness of her cheeks.  
  
  
Tamsyn knew that Josephine and Leliana would both say the same thing about sending soldiers after Cullen. Did she doubt his abilities? Could they afford to send someone on her hunch, only to have her proven wrong? They needed the world to believe in her power. Risking her reputation was needless. The young woman glared out at the mountains, at the red and gold shades splashed over their peaks by the setting sun, and knew that she had to do something. Maybe she was paranoid… but looking bad was the least of her worries. It took only a few minutes of inner turmoil before she made up her mind.  
  
With a stiff nod she left her place on the battlements and headed for the Herald’s Rest. Her steps were brisk; the sound of her boots against the stone were loud in the evening quiet. She made no move to speak to Sera; Cole was nowhere to be seen; her path took her instead to the large horned man lounging at the back of the ground floor.  
  
“Something on your mind?” he asked as soon as he saw her. No doubt he could easily read her expression. She sat down at his table without being asked, and spared a surreptitious glance around before answering.  
  
“I need help with something,” she said softly, “Are you and the Chargers up for a mission?”  
  
“Haven’t heard anything from the Boss since he left,” Bull said, his brow raising curiously, “But… this isn’t really an official mission, is it?”  
  
“I’m an advisor. I have authority to act… and Cullen needs help. I think.”  
  
“You think?”  
  
“I can’t explain,” she sighed with frustration, “I just need you to trust me.”  
  
The Qunari offered her a friendly smile and raised his large mug in a toast. “That, I can do. Just tell us what you need.”  
  
“We need to follow his trail toward Val Royeaux…”  
  
“Wait a minute. _We_? As in, me and the chargers, plus you?”  
  
Tamsyn pursed her lips. True, when she had returned from Orlais she had decided she never wanted to set foot outside Skyhold ever again. Especially not to go off on a dangerous mission. But her concern for the Commander outweighed her fear for herself; and for whatever reason, the mere suggestion she should stay behind made her feel angry. He had protected her before. She needed to be there for him.  
  
“Yes, Bull. _We_.”  
  
“Hmm. Alright. If you say so.” Bull shrugged his broad shoulders, “We’ve got your back, Tamsyn.”  
  


“Good. We leave tonight.”

 

 

***************************

Under the cover of darkness, Bull’s Chargers took their leave of Skyhold. When asked by the guards at the gate, the large Qunari man simply said their purpose was important and top secret. That seemed to be acceptable enough. Luckily, the guards didn’t look closely, so they didn’t notice the mercenary group had one extra member in their ranks. Tamsyn was dressed in warm clothes and her armor, all beneath a fur-lined cloak, with her hat pulled down to hide her face. She had already bade several people goodnight. She’d left a letter on the bedside table to explain the situation to Lea, and had done her best to sneak out to meet her companions at the stables without being noticed. The last thing she wanted was for someone to try and talk her out of going; not when her stomach was already tied in knots. A common sense discussion about not risking her safety just might convince her. As they crossed the long gatehouse bridge, and the biting cold of the mountain air surrounded them, she reminded herself that this was for Cullen.

Their pace was slow and careful. The bitter winds tore at them and the cold found its way through Tamsyn’s thickly layered clothing. Her teeth chattered against her will. It seemed she’d never really get used to this weather. Through the rest of the night they slogged on, and they sped up when the sun finally showed itself and offered some warmth to their travel. Iron Bull stopped the company for rest and a meal mid-morning. The advisor joined in the mercenaries' conversation, but it did little to distract her from that uneasy feeling in her gut.

With sunlight to guide them they picked up the pace. They would have to cover a lot of ground quickly if they were to catch up with Cullen's company. Tamsyn hoped that she was wrong and that everything would be fine when they reached them. She could deal with the Chargers being annoyed at her for dragging them out of the comfort of the keep. Heck, she’d pay them what she could from her salary if necessary. Mostly she wanted the Commander to be safe even if it meant she was proven wrong in the end.

Two days passed. The brisk travel and short rests were hard on Tamsyn; especially since her mare Zaira was still not quite agreeable; but she bit her tongue on any complaints. After everything she’d been through the travel wasn’t as difficult as it would have been several months ago, and she was grateful for that. Mostly she remained quiet, listening to the banter between The Iron Bull and Krem, and the rest of the rag-tag mercenary group.

On a clear, crisp morning, as they moved through a narrow snow-powdered pass of stone, they saw their first sign of Cullen’s company. It was Krem who spotted it where he rode at the head of their column.

“Chief, looks like there was a fight here,” the man’s voice floated back to where Tamsyn rode in the middle of the group. Her heart dropped into her stomach.  Bull was directly in front of her on foot, and because of his great height she had to try and peer between his horns; she fought the urge to try shoving past him. Instead she waited for Krem to continue.

“Two Inquisition soldiers dead here. Quite a few venatori, too. It was an ambush but our boys put up a good fight. Tracks lead further into the pass.”

“Shit,” Tamsyn hissed worriedly.

Bull glanced over his shoulder at her and then looked up at the steep walls of snowy rock that stood on both sides of them. “Chargers, stay alert. Could be more of the bastards hanging around. Skinner, go check it out.”

The elf slipped from her horse’s back without a word and crept forward without making a sound. Tamsyn only caught a glimpse of her cloak before she vanished around the corner several feet ahead. They could only sit and wait. The horses shifted nervously and snorted, occasionally stomping the snowy ground.

_No wonder_ , Tamsyn thought, _if they can sense how uneasy we all are. Or at least how uneasy **I** am.  
_  
Her nerves were ground to an edge by the cold and weariness and worry already. It was difficult to be patient. What would Skinner find? She tried not to let herself imagine the worst; but waiting in the grey landscape, trying to keep calm, she couldn’t help it. A thousand horrible scenarios sped through her mind, each one worse than the last, until she thought she would implode. When she finally saw a shadow moving beyond the Qunari man’s bulky form Tamsyn bit down on her lip to keep from calling out to the elf.

“Krem was right,” Skinner was breathless when she came up beside Bull, “Venatori are camped up ahead, but it seems like they are preparing to leave. They have Inquisition horses loaded with supplies.”

“What about our people?” Bull demanded bluntly. Tamsyn held her breath.

“It looks like there was a cave, but the entrance is filled with rocks. I didn’t see the Commander or his men, dead or alive. They must be trapped inside.”

Tamsyn let out a shuddering breath. That wasn’t the news she wanted to hear.

“How many vints?”

“One mage. Twelve soldiers.”

“Right. We’re going in.” Bull twisted to look at Tamsyn with his one good eye. His expression was one of determination. “You stay put out of sight, alright? We’ll handle the bastards. No need for you to put yourself at risk.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to protest, but Tamsyn swallowed that urge. Instead she simply nodded. She had been training with Cassandra - hard - at melee combat, and she had not stopped training with her bow alongside Leliana; but she didn’t want to get in the way of the Chargers. They were capable warriors and they didn't need the distraction of protecting her. Bull raised his hand and gestured for them to move again. Because of her placement in the line and the narrowness of the passage Tamsyn had to go along. When a wider space opened before them, everyone dismounted and continued forward on foot. Tamsyn followed for a short distance but hung back, out of the way.

“Alright, Chargers!” The Iron Bull bellowed when he caught sight of their prey, “Horns up!”

An answering roar came from every member of the group, and the mercenaries took off at a run like stampeding beasts. Tamsyn heard the dismayed cries of their enemies first, then she heard the clanging of steel and the flashing of magic that told her they had clashed. The young woman came to stop behind a boulder and peeked around to watch the fight. At first she just stared in morbid fascination at how brutally Bull moved with his large war axe, how efficiently the chargers worked around him at dispatching their enemies. Blood soon colored the snow. Tamsyn looked away with a cringe when a venatori head went rolling. 

_Not quite as finessed as Cullen._

Her thoughts were instantly brought back to her entire purpose for being here. Tamsyn looked forward again, eyes scanning the area beyond the fighting. As Skinner had said, several horses were tied to a cart, and she recognized Dane, Cullen‘s mount, secured to the wagon by a rope. Her brow creased angrily. How dare they! There were also the signs of a cave-in; tumbled rocks, snow and earth against what must have been the cavern‘s opening. Her mouth felt dry and her heart raced. Were they hurt? Were they even alive in there? Waiting and watching was miserable. Despite herself, she found her hands itching to grasp her bow and join in the fight.

As it turned out, she didn’t have a choice.

Tamsyn had thought she was well hidden. She was proven wrong when, in a flash of fire and the acrid scent of magic, the venatori spellbinder appeared just beside her. Her heart leapt into her throat. Almost without thinking she yanked the short sword from her belt and spun to face him. The mage easily dodged her first slashing attack. Heart pounding, blood racing, Tamsyn slashed again. Once more he dodged; but the third attempt caught the man across his exposed hand. Her satisfaction was short-lived. He whirled his staff; its head just missed her skull, but the razor-sharp blade slashed over her arm and ripped through the leather glove, reaching flesh and causing her to gasp in pain. An instant later she felt unpleasant tingles in her legs and glanced down to see glowing runes forming in the snow beneath her feet.

_Shit!_

The spell exploded beneath her in a fiery burst of sparks just as she jumped out of the way. Propelled backwards, she tumbled over the snow as heat bit at her and burned in her veins. Her head swam; everything ached. Which way was up? She thought she heard Bull’s voice calling her name but it was impossible to tell over the throbbing in her ears. Tamsyn gritted her teeth and un-slung her bow even as she staggered to her feet. She wouldn’t be a damsel in distress! Not this time!

With her vision still swimming Tamsyn strung an arrow and let fly. It just missed the mark, whipping by the mage’s hooded head. He gripped his staff to prepare another attack; the weapon began to glow with unholy red light. The advisor snarled and fired a second shot. This time she didn’t miss. Her arrow slammed into the spellbinder’s body with such force he was thrown back; his staff toppled from his grasp and a ragged curse fell from his lips. Tamsyn’s lungs ached from the cold and her arms trembled with adrenaline; she whipped another shaft from the quiver and fired again. The third arrow caught the mage in the throat. With an awful gurgle he clawed at his neck, then sank into the snow and was still.

“Damn, Tamsyn.”

Bull was suddenly standing beside her. The large qunari rested his axe on the ground and leaned on the pommel as he caught his breath. He gazed down at the dead mage and then cast an impressed look her way.

“Looks like all that training’s paid off.”

Tamsyn didn’t respond. She felt no joy at having slain the spellbinder. Mostly she felt sick. 

 

"You okay?" 

 

“Let’s just find Cullen and the others.”

After quickly swallowing an elfroot potion and reclaiming her weapons she accompanied Bull back to the camp. It was carnage; the Chargers had certainly been thorough. Tamsyn tried not to look at the bloodied corpses and instead focused her attention on the cave. One hand remained clamped over her arm where the mage’s blade had caught her. She was lucky. The thick leather of her glove had kept it from cutting deeply.

“Can we dig them out?” She asked, her worry now returning to the forefront. The company’s dwarf stepped forward, rubbing his hand against his chin thoughtfully.

“I can blow the rocks up. Simple.”

“Rocky, no.” Bull groaned at the dwarf, “We want to get our guys out, not bring the rest of the mountain down on all of us. Dalish, use your magic to move all this crap.”

The elf glanced around the group before responding, “But I’m not a mage. I don’t use magic.”

“Just do it.”

The elf walked to the pile of rubble blocking the cave entrance and studied it for a moment. She raised her “bow” and, before beginning, turned to send a pointed look at Tamsyn, “I’m going to do it. But this isn’t magic!”

No one argued. Tamsyn stood back and scraped her feet nervously on the snow as she watched Dalish working. The elf’s progress was far slower than it might have been in-game. The rubble was moved in large chunks, levitating and being settled down out of the way. It couldn’t all be done at once without comprising the stability of the mountain side. The smell of magic filled the air (despite what the elf said) and the atmosphere sparked with the tingling feeling of electricity.

The Chargers were busy checking the camp for loot. It was Krem who came up and offered a crumpled parchment to Bull. The Qunari read it quickly, his expression darkening as he did so.

“A letter from some Orlisian asshole,” he explained, “This was a trap to lure the Commander away from Skyhold.”

“Pontival,” Tamsyn’s eyes widened in dismay, “He was working with the venatori?”

“Seems so.” Bull glanced over the missive and then offered it to her. Tamsyn scanned the fine script before folding it and slipping behind her belt. As far as she’d known, the noble had not allied with their enemies in the story she knew. Did this mean there would be even more corruption to deal with among the nobility? Was it another effect of her presence in Thedas? That did not bode well.

“Don’t worry. We’ll deal with that bastard later- or Red will. Dalish is almost done with her magic.”

“It’s not magic!” 

This proclamation came as the last large bit of rubble was moved to reveal the cave’s opening. Tamsyn held her breath, afraid of what she would see within. Her eyes strained. Far back from the mouth of the cavern a fire was burning, its light glinting off the armor of the Inquisition soldiers and…

“Cullen!”

His name flew from her lips before she could stop it. Tamsyn’s legs carried her forward almost against her will; she nearly tripped over the bits of stone and earth scattered in her path. Cullen’s face changed from the snarl of a warrior to a mask of surprise; his sword fell from his grasp when she embraced him. _Clang!_ Their armor clacked awkwardly. They stumbled sideways together; his arms held her tightly to keep them both upright. Tamsyn breathed in the scent of elderflower and oak moss, buried her face in his fur mantle, her chest tightened with relief that he was safe. A moment later she realized just what she was doing and hastily pulled away.

“Oh God Cullen I’m sorry, I’m just-”

“Maker’s breath Tamsyn, what are you-”

“- glad you’re alive!”

“- doing here?”

“Saving you and your boys, that’s what,” Bull sauntered in and spoke without missing a beat, “Lady Tamsyn insisted on coming after you and bringing the Chargers along. Looks like she had the right idea.”

“Clearly she did.” Cullen gazed down at her with a lingering expression of surprise, “Next time I shall trust your gut feeling… But you should never have left Skyhold, Tamsyn, especially not for my sake. If these venatori had taken you prisoner-”

“They didn’t stand a chance.” The Qunari interrupted once again, “You missed an impressive battle. She brought down their spellbinder by herself.”

“You did?”

The mingling of admiration and worry on his face made Tamsyn’s ears burn more than they had been already. She was certain her victory had been more luck than skill, and she didn’t need Bull bragging on her. What was that blasted Qunari up to, anyway? 

“All that matters is that we won the fight and found you. All of you. Are you hurt?”

The Commander shifted his weight and glanced down at his right leg. His scarred lips formed a thin, grim line. “I walked into an ambush and lost two good men. That is bad enough.”

“He took a blade to the leg, my lady, but insisted we use the elfroot potions for our own hurts.” One of the soldiers butted in, eliciting an annoyed glare from Cullen. Tamsyn really wasn’t surprised by this revelation. Of course he’d put the well being of his troops above his own health, and feel responsible for the deaths of those lost. That was just like him. She wanted to hug him again, this time for his sake, but she thought better of it. She had already thrown herself at him like a madwoman once.

“Good thing we brought extra potions, then.” Tamsyn offered him an encouraging smile as she produced one of the glass flasks from her belt-pouch, “You could say I had a feeling we might need them.”

Cullen attempted to return her smile but it came across as more of a grimace. “You aren’t unscathed either. Tend to yourself first. And my troops-”

“Don‘t start that.” She boldly grabbed his gloved hand and pressed the bottle against his palm, closing his fingers over it. “We have enough for everyone. Drink the potion, Commander. I insist.”

The blonde man gave her a slight glare of challenge, and she gazed back at him without blinking. She knew that he must be in pain from his wounds, and exhausted and cold after spending a night in a frozen cavern; but more than that, she could see the strain on his face. The lyrium withdrawals were hounding him still, no doubt compounded by this whole event.

“Please,” she added.  His glare of protest slowly faded to reveal pain and weariness. He nodded his acquiescence with a sigh. Tamsyn couldn’t help the small smile of triumph that came to her lips.

 

After downing the potion, Cullen took charge of the situation (of course). The weariness was seemingly banished from his shoulders as he straightened and re-sheathed his sword. Doubtless he was putting on a strong face for the benefit of his troops.

 “Someone stoke up this fire. Make sure all the horses are accounted for, and get them in the cavern’s mouth and out of the snow. Now that we have access to supplies, we can tend to wounds more properly, then we’ll see to the dead. We must get everything settled before we decide our next move.”

 

Tamsyn stood near the flames, glad of the respite from the cold, and watched silently while Stitches began inspecting his comrades for injuries. The soldiers who had been trapped began doing the same, helping themselves to the Chargers’ supplies. She looked down at her arm and curiously pulled at the slashed glove to look at her own. A hiss of pain was drawn from her lips; the leather had become stuck to dried blood already.

“Careful. Let me see.”

Cullen was suddenly in front of her, taking her arm in his hands. She had fully expected to wait on Stitches for help; this, she had not seen coming. As always she was painfully aware of his touch, how he held her wrist firmly but gently. The Commander observed the wound carefully, the firelight making his honey-colored eyes glow.

“It’s fine,” she protested as she tore her gaze away from his face, “Just a scratch.”

“Did you take an elfroot tonic?”

“Yes, actually…”

“Hmm. The cut was worse than you thought, then, if the potion didn’t heal it completely. I’ll be right back. Don’t touch it.”

Tamsyn stood there blinking after him in surprise. He walked with a slight limp over to the satchel of medical supplies and returned shortly, carrying a few items. _Doctor Cullen, then?_ She swallowed the lump in her throat and gave a nervous laugh. “Didn’t take you for a physician, Commander.”

“Basic medical aid is included in templar training. I may not see much action in the field these days, but I think I’ve retained the important things. Shall we sit?”

 

 

The last thing Tamsyn had ever imagined was Commander Cullen tending to her injuries by a fire somewhere in the Frostbacks. She was grateful he held off on admonishing her for leaving Skyhold, at least. It was all too obvious she *could* have gotten herself killed on this venture. At the time, that just hadn’t seemed more important than seeing with her own eyes that he was okay. Without speaking he took a damp cloth and first dabbed at her cheek. The young woman was startled to see blood come away from her face; she hadn’t even felt anything there. The touch stung, but it was still enough to make her blush.

_Stop it. Stop it. Stop it._ She grumbled inwardly at herself.  Cullen turned his attention to the cut on her arm then. Carefully he grasped the cuff of the ruined glove between his fingers.

“May I?”

“Sure,” she said, trying to keep her voice level, “You’re the doctor.”

An amused, lopsided smile graced his mouth at this comment. Very carefully he removed the glove from her hand. Tamsyn bit her lip to keep from making any noise as it tugged at the wound. Everyone here had probably seen worse than this. She didn’t want to whine or appear weak. When her arm was revealed to the light she saw that it indeed looked worse than she had initially thought. Thankfully the cut was shallow. When Cullen began cleaning it she tried not to react but, despite the elfroot potion, it still hurt. With an undignified hiss she jerked away from him on instinct.

“I’m sorry!” he said, his voice tinged with alarm.

“It's fine! You didn't hurt me,” she returned, “I mean- you did, but I know you didn’t mean to- but- agh, never mind. I’ll be still. Go on.”

Cullen grasped her wrist again, watching her face for a moment before continuing his work. He began to speak.

“So, Tamsyn… why _did_ you come with the Chargers?”

Tamsyn winced again, and not because of the pain. “Am I going to get a lecture?”

“I fear don’t have one prepared at the moment,” He glanced up with a hint of mischief in his eyes. The look made her heart skip a beat. She also didn’t miss the similarity to a certain in-game conversation she remembered.

“I was worried,” she answered, avoiding looking at him, “I couldn’t take just sitting on my hands doing nothing.”

“You were sure we were in danger?”

“No,” she confessed, “I wasn’t sure, but I didn’t want to risk being wrong. Like I said. It was just a feeling- a strong one.”

“I see. A fortune teller's feeling?”

 

"I guess you could say that."

 

The wound was clean. Cullen removed one of his gloves then, and laid it over his knee before opening a small earthenware jar. Tamsyn detected a fragrant medicinal smell. 

“Elfroot and Embrium paste,” he explained, “It should help the pain and keep the wound from becoming infected.”

She felt her face was burning when he began applying the medicine. It wasn’t a romantic gesture, she knew that- but there were no gloves or armor between his hand and hers. Tamsyn thought she might faint on the spot from the mere touch of his skin. Would she ever get over reacting to him this way?

“Thank you,” she said lamely.

“I should thank _you_ ,” he responded as he set aside the jar and began wrapping a cloth bandage around her limb, “If not for you, we would have had to try digging our way out, probably right into the laps of our enemies. We quite possibly owe you our lives.”

“I wouldn’t go that far…”

“I would.” With the bandage tied he slipped her torn glove back on over it, and then pulled his own back into place. “While I am definitely not happy that you put yourself in suck reckless danger… I am grateful. And, I must add, rather impressed.”

“Impressed? Really?” Tamsyn’s brows arched in surprise at the last bit.

“Really.” Maker, that smile.  “Though I imagine Josephine and Leliana may have words for you once you return.”

“Oh, I have no doubt.”  She cringed at that inevitable meeting, “Speaking of which… we found this.”

Upon reading the letter Cullen’s lip curled in disgust, but he hardly seemed surprised.

“As I suspected,” he said, “Once we faced the ambush I knew it was a trap. I can’t believe we didn’t see it sooner.”

“There was no reason to suspect it.” Tamsyn offered, “But now that we know, we have to consider how we’ll proceed. Like Josie said, several people are waiting to see how this plays out. They don’t know Pontival is a traitorous bastard.”

“True, and our reputation could still be harmed if I do not show up for this duel.” Cullen frowned, “I suppose I must still honor the challenge.”

“There could be more venatori waiting. And, you still need to have your leg looked at.”

“Hmph.” Cullen glance down and gripped his thigh where the venatori blade had undoubtedly landed, “The Chargers could accompany me to boost our numbers- and now we’ll be more watchful. Pontival will probably be so flummoxed when I show up alive and ready to give him a beating that he may flee outright.”

Tamsyn wasn’t sure what the correct answer was; though, knowing that Cullen would be going forward with eyes wide open made her feel much better about the whole situation. A part of her wanted to accompany him, but she was wise enough to know one brash adventure was enough for the moment. She had no real desire to set foot back in Val Royeaux. 

“Whatever you decide, you have my support.” She offered him a warm smile, and was rewarded with one in return. After a few moments of silence Tamsyn realized she was just staring at him again and hastily got to her feet. Seeing that the Chargers' medic was done with his current patient, she waved at him.

“Stitches, the Commander needs some help.”

“Right.” Gathering his things, the man made his way over to the fire.

“Now, that’s really not necessary.”  Cullen said.

“Yes it is." Tamsyn cast him a smug little smile, "Once again, I insist.”

He shook his head with a smirk. Tamsyn walked away to offer some privacy. Her steps took her past where Iron Bull was just opening a cask of beer, past the horses (the beasts all had their heads together as though discussing the day’s events) and out into the crisp mountain air. The day was waning now and the air had grown colder. The young woman closed her eyes and let the icy breeze banish the flush of warmth from her cheeks and wake up her senses. With a sigh she raised her face toward the sky. How would this particular scenario end? She honestly had no idea- but knowing they had gotten here in time to be of help was a huge relief. She had faith in Cullen, and knowing he’d be going forward more cautiously was enough to calm her fears. Leliana’s people could find out more about Pontival’s doings. Josephine had connections that would surely be useful.

She believed there would be an uproar- at least with a few people - when she returned to Skyhold. And she was _certain_ that there would be an even bigger brouhaha upon the Commander’s arrival to Orlais’ grand capital. People would be talking about his duel for weeks.

_Just a feeling of course_ , she thought to herself with a slight grin. _Just a gut feeling._

 


End file.
